


Dewey Finn One-shots

by maxiedear



Category: School of Rock (2003), School of Rock - Lloyd Webber/Slater/Fellowes
Genre: Fluff, Reader-Insert, hella fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-01-03 11:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21178310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxiedear/pseuds/maxiedear
Summary: A collection of Dewey Finn x reader oneshots. Hella soft.





	1. Don't Let Go

“Babe? Are you home?”

You hear the door to your apartment close and a voice approach your bedroom, along with the familiar voice’s belongings being tossed on your couch.

“I’m in here,” you say back, sitting up in bed to wait for your boyfriend. You got off work early after working all morning, knowing the small record shop would be fine without you just this once. It was a treat-yo’-self kind of day, and you were in the mood to spend the rest of it in bed without pants on.

“I stopped by the shop and they said you went home,” Dewey tells you as he sits down on the bed next to you. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Mm, just tired. I felt like treating myself instead of dealing with trying to decipher what costumers are trying to ask of me,” you say as you lay back down. “If people knew the names or at least the lyrics of what they were trying to find, my life would be a lot easier.”

“Tell me about it,” he groans. “I can’t play your request if I _don’t know_ what you’re requesting.” Dewey dramatically flays himself across you, lamenting about his night job. While the School of Rock after school program was fulfilling, he liked being able to sing whatever he wanted on stage without being surrounded by children. “You can’t just say ‘it goes like dun-dun-dan’ and expect me to know it. There’s a lot of songs that go dun-dun-dan!”

You giggle at his complaints, patting the rhythm of the song in your head on his back. He starts making noises to beat, inserting words where he sees fit.

“~I let myself into your house, so maybe I should buy you a pizza~” he sings to you, propping himself up on his elbows over you. “~You deserve so much more, but pizza sounds so hella good right now~”

It didn’t matter that the words didn’t rhyme, you laughed along to his freestyling. Dewey peppers your cheeks with kisses in between verses, rubbing his scruff against your neck. You trap his face in your hands and kiss him, making him hum in submission as you stop his song.

“You’re so wonderful,” you tell him, squishing his cheeks.

“Its all for you, baby,” he grins. “And I’m going to make good on my offer and order pizza.” He gets up off you and motions for you to stay in bed as he goes to call the pizza place down the street, ordering pizza and breadsticks for the two of you. You hear him rustle around your kitchen, and decide to pull yourself from your blankets and join him.

You sit down on the couch and pick up your guitar, idly strumming as you tune. Dewey sits down next to you, placing two beers on the coffee table and relaxing into the cushions. You slow down one of your favorite songs, and start to sing, changing the lyrics only slightly.

“[I don’t know what other people see, or what they think is love. But I know what it means to me  
I fall in love so easily](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DLUCCjmvdgSQ&t=MDY1NWUwNzQwZDFkNzZhMTQxNmZmMmVjZGU2MjFkMzk1ZWQ0ZmEzMCxhVHAwVUY3Rg%3D%3D&b=t%3AV2dr9ID_L8Sd8mjLDfYhoQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fitslikethesizeofmy.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F188596346522%2Fdont-let-go&m=0),” you sing to him, and he shakes his head and smiles as you reach the chorus. “I’m a hopeless romantic, you’re not hopeless.”

Dewey sings the next verse and the following chorus with you, bouncing his knee to match the tempo you up to meet how fast the song actually goes. He kisses your cheek as you finish the song, laughing at the change in lyrics.

“Did I make you in a computer?” he asks you, cracking open your drinks. 

“Its not strange science, sweetness, you just fell in love with a punk that won’t let go,” you smile.

“Never let go,” he tells you, taking the guitar from your hand and placing it back on the stand. Dewey leans over you, pressing your back to the arm rest, and catches your mouth with his. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close. You pull away and raise your eyebrow at him.

“Was that a Titanic thing?”

“I didn’t mean it to be, but I guess it was,” he says. “Only a nerd would think of Titanic when their boyfriend tells them to never let go of the things they love.”

“Guess that means you’re stuck with me,” you grin.

“You… are too much sometimes,” he laughs, rubbing his nose against yours.

“You love it,” you say, pressing your lips to his. 

“I love it so much,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around your middle. Your mouths move with each other’s, slowly heating up. You sigh and relax into his arms when Dewey slips his tongue over yours, the heady taste of alcohol filling your mouth. You run your fingers through his hair as he squeezes your waist, repositioning himself in between your legs. He pulls your hips to his, making you moan as he grinds against you.

The two of you jump when a knock on your door pulls you back to reality, the one where the pizza delivery boy interrupts your make-out session.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get the pizza I ordered,” Dewey yells to the door, picking himself up off you. You laugh as he grumbles to himself, fumbling with his wallet as he pays for your food. “Totally wasn’t in the middle of something…”


	2. Warm Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can I request some fluffy touch starved reader performing with Dewey and after the show he hugs them and they just,, don’t let go for a minute and LOTS of cuddling ensues from that point on, idk if they’d already be dating or friends to lovers, either is precious—sapphic-florals on tumblr

As you finish the band’s set, the rush of adrenaline is still flowing through your veins. The audience has been electric and hyped, feeding off Dewey’s energy. You can’t help but envy how well he can work the crowd, appreciating him from behind your drum-set. You may have also been appreciating the view, watching the way Dewey danced across the stage and shimmied his hips. Not that you were looking, of course. Dewey was just… your lead guitarist, your vocalist, your friend, the person that let you join his band… nothing more. But sometimes you let yourself take glances longer than friendly, and sometimes that meant watching him perform.

Dewey thanks the crowd for coming out, and starts to unplug his guitars and amps. You take down your drum-set, loading it in to the back of his old van. Dewey loads the amps, pedals, and all of the needed chords in after the drums, closing the back doors with a huff.

“We need roadies,” he tells you. “Can we hire some of the kids?”

“I think that would be child labor, Dew,” you laugh.

“Yeah, but labor we don’t have to do,” he says, as if there weren’t laws against that sort of thing. The two of you lean against the back of the van, the night air cooling you down from the show. Your breath forms small clouds as you exhale, and you giggle when Dewey tries to blow rings with it.

“Hey, Dewey?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” you tell him. “For, you know, letting me join the band.”

“You totally rock, babe, I wouldn’t want anyone else,” he says, turning to face you.

“Yeah, but still. You could have let me join and then not done anything with me outside of it,” you shrug. “You’re like, my best friend.”

_You think back to when you first moved to the city, alone with no friends, barely a job, and an apartment too small to set up your drums. When you went to the bar down the street, you saw a flier looking for a drummer for a local band. You called the number and were told to meet at a studio space for a try-out, and the rest is history._

_ You and Dewey became fast friends. With music as the base, the relationship grew from there. Classic video games, shitty cult movies, and cheap beer, to past hardships, relationships gone sour, and the general desire to not ‘grow up’ solidified your bond. With your physical connection not yet going past side hugs and shoulder punches, you hoped that one day it could be more. _

When Dewey pulls you in to a real, strong hug, your mind freezes before returning the gesture. You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him tight. You cling to his jacket, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he does the same. The two of you stay like this for what feels like forever, comfortable and content in each other’s arms and silence. Dewey loosens his grip and presses his forehead to yours.

“Could we be more than that?” he asks you, his voice quiet and unsure.

“I would really like that,” you tell him. You both smile in the darkness, warm in each other’s embrace.


	3. Pink Starbursts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: U-uh,, not to be nsfw, but maybe, uh, giving Dewey a big smooch

When you get called to the check-out counter of the record store you work at, you think its an unruly costumer balking at the prices of newly printed vinyls and demanding a discount. Instead, there’s a delivery boy waiting for you to sign for a package waiting is his truck. After signing his keypad, you go back to work as he retrieves whatever you signed for. Just as you got back into the zone of resorting misplaced records, you’re called again. You sigh and put down the records in your hands and go back to the front of the shop.

Waiting at the counter is a bouquet of [hydrangeas](https://www.flowermeaning.com/hydrangea-flower-meaning/) and [peonies](https://www.flowermeaning.com/peony-flower-meaning/), a beautiful mix of pinks overflowing a simple vase. You blush when your coworker hands you the card, knowing they already read the note.

> _I know you’re not usually a pink person, but I wanted to let you know how much you mean to me. Xo Dewey_

At the end of your shift you gather your belongings and the vase of flowers, and head straight to Dewey’s apartment. You let yourself in and find Dewey sitting on his couch, idly strumming a guitar.

“Hey, honey,” he calls to you as he sets down his guitar, not getting up from his spot. You place the vase of flowers on the coffee table and smile at him before sitting down on his lap. “Do you like them?” he asks you.

“I love them,” you reply, wrapping your arms around him. He grins before pressing his lips to yours, pulling you close.

“I love you,” Dewey tells you.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I'll expand on this, maybe I won't. We'll see.
> 
> _ [Follow me!](https://linktr.ee/maxiedear) _


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